


We Live Through Scars

by LeeBarnes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Baker Harry, Fluff, Harry's raising a kid, I can't think of anything else to add, Liam and Niall are around, Louis is studying to be a social worker, M/M, Mentions of minor characters deaths, Recreational Drinking, Slow Burn, Student Louis, Zayn never existed, a bit of drama? but like not really..., and it happened years before the start of the story, but feel free to tell me if I missed something, if they even do, in a car accident if that's a trigger to anyone, like don't expect Louis & Harry to get together before the end, like super slow burn, none of the guys, they're such idiots you'll never know with them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 13:09:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4138779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeBarnes/pseuds/LeeBarnes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wishes March 28th could just disappear from the calendar, wishes he could go to sleep on the 27th and wake up on the 29th. He wishes he never ever had to think about March 28th again. But alas, the day comes back every year, brings painful memories and sadness with it. </p><p>But when he meets Louis on a very much hated March 28th, he's just not sure he still wants to skip the day anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Live Through Scars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eatmyass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatmyass/gifts).



> Alright, before we start, I'd like to give a public apology to twistedstars and tummylaurels for being such a shit participant, always asking for extensions and never meeting the deadline in the end. I am so sorry for this. I wish I could have anticipated it and saved you troubles. You've always been kind and patient, though, and I admire you so much for that. Thank you. (And sorry).
> 
> Eatmyass (I wish I knew your name lol), I hope you won't mind but I had to take some liberties with your prompt to get over a bit of a writer block. The changes aren't big and they don't alter the general plot, like I just gave Harry a reason to show up at the homecare every weekend xD  
> Anyway, I hope you'll like the story :)
> 
> Title is from Scars by James Bay, beautiful song, go listen to it.
> 
> And now, onto the story.

Harry’s typical day starts at six in the morning, when the first notes of Wouldn’t It Be Nice by The Beach Boys ring through his bedroom’s walls and the sunlight starts peaking through the cheap curtains. He gets out of bed quickly, gathers his things and goes to take a long shower. He has a wank in there sometimes, when he has time for it. He goes to set everything up for breakfast after that. He usually makes pancakes or waffles or French toasts instead of buying cereals and other processed food. They’re all sugars and chemicals, can’t be healthy. And then he goes to wake Dylan up and help him get ready. He often carries him to the kitchen, wants to enjoy these little moments while he still can. Niall joins them for breakfast, only half-awake and grumpy until he takes his first bite. It’s a well-rehearsed routine by now; they have it down.

But Harry doesn’t want to follow his routine today, doesn’t want to pretend it’s just another day. He doesn’t want to get out of bed and face the reality of his life.  He wants to make a fort with blankets and pillows, curl up in there and hide from the world. He just wants to pretend today isn’t happening. He could get away with it too. He could get away with a lot today, probably. But he can’t do any of it. He can’t just disconnect for the day. Dylan wouldn’t understand. He knows what happened, knows about the accident. Harry never tried to keep it from him, never wanted to. But he’s still so young, so innocent. He doesn’t really get it yet. He doesn’t realise what they lost that day. He can’t.

“Haz, you awake?” Niall asks, just loud enough to be heard through the door. He doesn’t wait for an answer, though, pushes the door open and slips through the gap. Harry pulls the blanket over his head. He doesn’t want to see the look on his best friend’s face. He has a pretty good idea of what he’ll find there anyway. “You don’t have to worry about getting Dylan ready or anything. I’ve got him, okay?”

Harry glances at the digital clock on his bedside table, sees that it’s already half past seven. He should have breakfast ready by now, should be helping Dylan get dressed. He didn’t make anything for breakfast. And he’s not entirely sure they have anything in the cupboards either. He can’t send Dylan to school with an empty stomach. He can’t let him down, not even today. He can’t fail him. He has to get a grip. He kicks the sheets off his body and sits on the edge of the mattress, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes. He looks at Niall who’s still standing in the doorway with a worried look in his eyes and sad tilt to his mouth. Harry cracks a small smile to try and ease him. He’s not very convincing, really.

“Thanks, Ni.” Harry croaks, voice rough with unused and sleep and unshed tears. He coughs to clear his throat, gets up and picks up his clothes. Niall’s eyes never leave him. He might be expecting Harry to collapse into a puddle of tears at any moment. And he might. Crumble, that is. He might crumble today, on the one day of the year he allows himself to. “I’ll be down in a bit, yeah? Just going to jump in the shower real quick and I’ll take over.”

“Yeah, sure, take your time.” Niall says quietly, sadness and worry still etched on his features as he retreats out of the room and closes the door behind him.

Harry closes his eyes and breathes in deep a couple of times, in through the nose and out through the mouth. He’s going to head downstairs after his shower and he’s going to smile at Dylan, pretend today’s just another day for him. It’s going to be okay. It has to be okay. He opens the eyes, blinks the hitch and burn away. He has to get a move on if he wants to be ready on time to walk Dylan to school himself.

He walks past Dylan’s room on his way to the bathroom and catches sight of Niall trying to get him into his school’s uniform. Dylan’s not the most helpful in the mornings, his small limbs as floppy as over-cooked noodles while he struggles to wake up properly. But Niall is patient with him. He’s always so patient with him. He’s great with Dylan, truly is. He loves him almost as much as Harry does, would do pretty much anything for him. And Harry will never admit to it but he doesn’t think he could do it without him, raising Dylan. He doesn’t think he’d be strong enough to do it on his own. He’s grateful to have Niall in their life.

His body feels heavier with each step he takes towards the bathroom, almost like it knows he might let his control slip once in there. His hands are shaking as he locks the door behind him, his legs weaken when steps under the showerhead. He falls then, back sliding against the cold wall until he’s sitting on the floor, legs drawn to his chest and face buried in his knees and shoulders shaking with each sob. The sounds of his breakdown are drown by the running water, the evidence of it washed down the drain as soon as they appear.

Three years. It’s been three years since the accident, three years since his life changed so drastically and irrevocably. He remembers everything about that day, still, small details he’d have forgotten all about if he’d never gotten that phone call, like every word of the paragraph he was reading when his phone rung. He never even got to use all that knowledge, dropped out before he could even take the exam. He wonders if he’ll ever forget it, that damn paragraph. He wonders if it’ll ever be easier to remember, wonders if he’ll ever be able to think about them without it hurting so much.

Dylan looks so much like his mother, same black hair and grey eyes and dimpled smile and contagious laugh. And he will never know her. Harry tells him about her sometimes, tells him the stories she shared with him and all the adventures they lived together. He wants Dylan to know these things, wants him to know who she was. He’ll always talk about her regardless of how much it hurts him. Dylan will know how kind she was, how patient and understanding. But he will never hear her laugh. He will never find comfort in her arms, in her smell. He will never know how she smelt. It’s unfair. It is so, so unfair.

Harry washes the tears tracks off his face, rubs at the skin until it’s burning red. He breathes in deep, fills in his lungs, keeps the air in there for a few seconds and exhales slowly. He does it a couple more times, waits to feel in control again and steps out of the shower. He knots the towel around his wais and wipes the condensation on the mirror, looks at his reflexion. He looks a mess, dark circles under his eyes and red scratches on his cheeks. He sighs, the sound loud in the otherwise silent room. He’s going to pull himself together now and he’s going to keep it together. He’s going to be strong, for Dylan.

Niall and Dylan are sitting on the couch when Harry gets downstairs, watching cartoons with bowls of cereals on their laps. And Harry would be scowling Niall on any other day, would remind him that Dylan is not supposed to watch TV on a school day and even less so in the morning. But today is not any other day, is the thing. He left Niall to take care of Dylan while he had a proper breakdown in the shower. He can hardly make any sort of reproach, has no right to. He walks to the couch instead, stops behind Dylan and kisses the top of his head. Dylan looks up and beams at him, all tiny teeth and dimples and bright as the sun. He is his life, that little boy, his everything. He’s the main reason why he gets out of bed every morning, why he tries to have it together all the time.

“Niall have secret chocolate cereals!” Dylan says happily, thrusting his half-empty bowl under Harry’s nose and spilling milk on the cushion. Niall’s quick to wipe the droplets with the dishtowel resting on his shoulder, like he’s already used to cleaning after the boy. He is, probably, sort of. He’s also completely whipped. “He has Fireman Sam on the TV too, look!”

“I can see that, yeah.” Harry chuckles, ruffling Dylan’s hair as he moves to sit next to him. Niall hands him the bowl that was on the coffee table, cereals soaked with milk and barely eatable anymore. He smiles at the bowl, weak but still there. It might very well be what he needs to make today easier on him. He just needs to be with his family, to remember he didn’t actually lost it all that day. “Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome.”

*********

“I’m thinking about calling in sick at work today.” Niall announces, eyes shifting to Harry’s face quickly. Harry doesn’t react, just kicks at a pebble on the sidewalk and watches it roll away. He’s been expecting it, to be honest, Niall wanting to stay with him and keep him from getting too lost in his own head. “I’ve already filled in most of my paperwork for the week anyway, can finish the bits I have left at home.”

“Just go to work, Niall. I’m fine.” Harry assures, faint smile on his lips as he glances at his best friend. He’s not fine, won’t be fine until the day’s over, and Niall knows him as well he does. But he can’t wallow in self-pity, can’t just stop living even if just for one day. “And I’m going in myself later so there’s really no need for you to stay home.”

“Didn’t Liz give you the day off?” Niall asks, eyebrows coming together in a frown as he looks at Harry.

And the fact that he knows Harry’s boss wanted him to take the day off should probably surprise Harry more than it does. “She offered, yeah.” He shrugs, kicks at the same stone as before. He thinks it’s the same at least.

There will come a time when the twenty-eight of March won’t feel like the worst day of the year anymore, when just the mention of the date won’t hurt as much as it does now. He won’t feel the weight of his loss any more than the rest of the year then, will go about the day as normally as can be. But until then, he just has to pretend, has to force some normalcy into his day. Fake it until you make it, is how the saying goes.

There’s a couple of things he needs to do, though, things he doesn’t normally do on Fridays but feels it’s important he does them today.

*********

Harry goes to visit the graveyard once a month, brings flowers and fresh news. He sits by the graves for a little while, talks to the headstones. It just doesn’t feel right that he’s the only one knowing things about Dylan, what he likes and what he hates and what kind of person he’s becoming. It just doesn’t feel fair that he’s the only one who gets to see him grow up. So he comes here and he shares it all. It accomplishes nothing, of course, no one’s even here to hear him but birds, but it helps somehow. Dylan asks to come sometimes, when he’s got particularly exciting news to share. Harry just watches him then, pacing and gesturing and smiling. He wonders if he realises yet that dead people don’t hear him, that they can’t hear him.

He doesn’t talk today, just sits on the gravel and stares at the names on the gravestones. He doesn’t know what to say, his brain’s just full of _I miss you_ and _I wish you were here_ and _you should be watching your son grow up_ but he’s already said it all more times than he can count. And he doesn’t want to say it again, not today. It just feels too pointless today, everything does. He stays until his bum gets numb, quieter than he’s ever been before. He runs a finger over the letter engraved in the marble, whispers goodbyes and leaves the graveyard.

*********

He goes straight to work after he left the graveyard, arrives with twenty minutes to spare and gets a sandwich to eat in the lockers room. He sits on the bench and munches on it without hunger, just to have some food in his stomach and avoid passing out. He changes into his work uniform and walks to the front room. He’s working with Liz and Ella today, just like he does every Mondays, Tuesdays and Fridays. He’s been working at the bakery since he was just about sixteen, used to clean tables and mop floors on weekends. He had to quit when he left for Uni. It’d have been counterproductive to spend his entire wage on trains to come to work. But Liz still took him back without a second of hesitation, gave him more hours and responsibilities without him even asking. And she vouched for him at the hearing, made sure the judge knew his position at the bakery was as certain and stable as it could be. It likely is what tipped the balance in his favour, to be honest, and Harry will be eternally grateful to her for everything she’s done.

“Hello loves.” Harry greets as he joins the women behind the counter, tying the apron around his waist. He forces a grin on his lips when he looks up at them. “So are we ready for the lunch rush?”

The two women watches him for a moment, carefully, a sad tilt to their mouths and eyes. Harry thinks about leaving sometimes, thinks about moving to a place where no one knows them, where no one knows what happened to them. But he always shakes the thought away. He loves the town and wants Dylan to grow up here more than he wants to run away from all the pitying eyes.

“Well, we should have enough food at least.” Liz replies eventually, pointing at the piles of sandwiches in the glass display. They will probably need to make a few more actually, always do. “Mikey left a few botched goods from this morning in the cold room, if you want to bring them to the centre later. And we’ll add the failed from this afternoon, too.”

“Emily’s going to be delighted, thanks.” Harry smiles, maybe his first smile of the day that hasn’t been brought up by Dylan. It’s not much, what he brings to the homecare, just overcooked bread and floppy pastries, but the kids’ eyes always light up at the sight. And Harry loves seeing that look on their faces, so much.

Liz smiles back, albeit still a little sadly, and goes to clean the newly deserted tables. She’s a great woman, Liz. Harry has a lot of love for her, maybe as much as he’d have had for his grandmother if he’d known her.

*********

Harry takes the bus to Liam and Lucy’s, backpack full of food they couldn’t sell and extras Liz added just for Dylan. He turns his iPod on, tries to drown out his thoughts with music from his favourite bands. He’s exhausted, tired of faking smiles and pretending to be fine. He forgot how draining it can be, keeping up pretences. He plans to have an early night for once, just crash as soon as he gets Dylan to sleep. And he’ll have a lot to day in the morning, things he usually does before he goes to bed, but he just can’t wait for today to be over.

Dylan’s playing football with Liam when Harry arrives at his friends’ house. Lucy watches them from where she’s sitting on the front steps. Dylan all but abandons the game when he notices Harry walking down the street, excitedly runs into his arms as soon as he’s opened the iron gate. Harry scoops him up and settles him on his hip, an arm under his bum to keep him from falling.

“Such a heavy Munchkin I’ve got here!” Harry complains jokingly, pretending to sag under Dylan’s weight. “What have you been feeding him, Luce, whales?”

“Nah, just elephants.” Lucy replies with a shrug, grin on her face as she comes to join them. Dylan bursts out laughing, repeating the word ‘elephant’ between his cackles. A smile tugs at the corners of Harry’s lips. He loves the sound of Dylan’s laughter so much. It’s his favourite sound in the world, probably. Lucy pulls him into a one-arm hug, only made slightly awkward by Dylan’s presence on his side. “How are you, Haz?”

Harry’s only answer is a small shrug, knowing Lucy won’t be offended by the lack of actual words. He’s sick and tired of that question, wishes he never had to hear it ever again. Dylan claims Harry’s attention again, cupping his chin with both of his small hands and turning his face towards him. Harry goes a little cross-eyed at the proximity, might exaggerated it a little to make the boy smile.

“Liam teach me footie, you know?” Dylan reveals happily, fingertips digging into Harry’s cheek. “He say you are lame at footie. It is why he teach me and not you.”

“Liam is just full of poop, love.” Harry assures, glaring at Liam who moved next to Lucy at some point and is grinning at him like a mad man. Dylan giggles, burying his face into the crook of Harry’s neck. Harry really is shit at football, is the truth. He has a fair lot of knowledge and understanding of the game but lacks the coordination needed to actually play it properly. He’ll be forever sad about his lack of skills, really. “We should get going. We have a long bus ride ahead of us.”

“We go to Mary Lennox now?” Dylan asks, eyes bright with excitement. He loves going to the homecare centre, has made a lot of friends there over the last couple of years. Harry nods, bopping Dylan’s nose before putting him down. “I go get my things now. I come right back.”

Harry barely has time to nod again that Dylan’s already running up the pathway. He hopes Rabbit won’t be forgotten in a corner today. He just can’t deal with the crisis it will cause at bedtime, not today. He really can’t be bothered to do much of anything today. He might stop to get take-out on the way home. Dylan would be very happy with that, so would Niall.

“You should take the car.” Liam’s voice breaks through Harry’s thoughts. Harry looks at him, at Lucy next to him. They don’t look like they’re having him on right now. He’s a little confused. Liam loves his car so much he struggled with letting even Lucy drive it at first. “We’re not planning to go anywhere tonight so you can just bring it back tomorrow.”

Harry doesn’t drive, is the thing, not if he can help it. He’s just not comfortable behind the wheel. Any other day, he’d refuse Liam’s offer without hesitation. But it can take up to two hours to go to Mary Lennox by bus while it only takes about forty-five minutes by car. He thinks he’d rather drive than take the bus today.

“Are you offering to lend me your precious car right now?” Harry smirks, unable to resist teasing Liam in spite of his exhaustion and numbness. “Does it mean you love me then? You really love me?”

“Stop being a shit and just take the car, alright?” Liam sighs, taking the keys out of his pocket and giving them to Harry.

“Thank you, Liam. I’ll treat it right and bring it back in one piece, I promise.”

Dylan comes running out of the house just as Harry takes the keys from Liam, tripping over his own feet in his rush to get to them. He just picks himself up and carries on like nothing happened.

Lucy chuckles, burying the sound in the back of her hand as to not alert Dylan. “There’s absolutely no doubt, you two definitely are related.”

*********

Harry could probably go to Mary Lennox Homecare with his eyes closed at this point. He definitely knows all the way to get there, how long they all take and their level of difficulty. He used to make the journey every day, sometimes twice a day, just to spend a handful of hours with Dylan. Everyone was great to them, so patient and friendly. Emily even set up a foldable bed in the babies room for him, understood that he needed to be with Dylan as much as Dylan needed to be with him. She taught him how to take care of him, how to prepare his bottle and change his nappies, how to recognise his cries for comfort from his pained sobs. She listened to him, encouraged him. Harry will be forever grateful for her. There are so many people he’ll be forever grateful for, it’s a bit ridiculous. He just has so many great people in his life, is all.

Dylan spends the entirety of the drive telling Harry all about his day, including a lot of unnecessary details. Harry hums every so often, only answers with actual words when required. And he’s listening, he really is, he’s just a bit distracted too. He’s a good driver, never been in an accident or anything, but he’s not a confident driver. He just doesn’t trust the other cars; some leftovers from the crash according to the psychologist Lucy convinced him to see a couple of years back. So he’s a little bit of a nervous wreck behind the wheel. At least he drives now, every once in a while. He used to avoid it at all costs, which made his life a lot more complicated than it should have been.

They arrive at the homecare just as Dylan’s getting to the part of his day where Lucy picked him up from school and took him home. And if Harry feels so much relief once the car parked it’s only because he’s no longer driving it. He can see the building from where he parked, looking small behind the fences. Harry used to be scared of this place, impressed by the fences and iron-gate. He remembers when he was told Dylan would have to stay at the Mary Lennox Homecare until the final hearing. He almost had a panic attack at the idea of his baby boy staying there on his own. But then he met Emily and he realised that the exterior of the building was in no way reflective of the people working there. He understands the need for security, to protect the kids living here and all that, but whoever designed the place could have made it a little bit more welcoming. It could change people’s perception of homecare centres, could make them look less scary. He helps Dylan out of the car, grabs his backpack and takes Dylan’s hand to cross the street.

Some kids are playing outside, running and screaming as Georgia and Jamie try to catch them. Harry smiles at the sight, ringing the intercom to get the concierge to open the gate. Dylan lets go of Harry as soon as they hear the click signalling the gate’s unlocked, pushes it open and rushes to join the game. Georgia notices him first and goes straight for him, her way to welcome him. Harry waves at her on his way to the door. He’s not even a little bit anxious about leaving Dylan with her. She’s great with kids, so is Jamie. Emily sure knows how to pick the best to work for her.

Emily’s office is always Harry’s first stop when he comes here. He always goes to tell her he’s here and show her what he brought from the bakery before he starts to wander around, no matter how many times she tells him that he doesn’t have to report to her anymore. He’s been coming here every Saturday for the last two years, probably spends more time at the centre than some of the volunteers. No one even blinks at his presence anymore.

_“And will we see you again? Will we ever speak to an angel once we go back to our own world?”_

Harry stops in his tracks at the sound of the soft and melodious voice. He knows everyone here, workers and volunteers and kids. But he doesn’t know that voice. It’s coming from the common room, reading words that sound vaguely familiar to Harry. And he feels drawn to that voice, like he’s being pulled by it for some reason. He takes a turn that will lead him to the common room instead of Emily’s office, doesn’t even think twice about it.

_“If you say my work is fighting, or healing, or exploring, or whatever you might say, I’ll always be thinking about it, and if I do end up doing that I’ll be resentful because it’ll feel as if I didn’t have a choice, and if I don’t do it, I’ll feel guilty because I should. Whatever I do, I will choose it, no one else.”_

There’s half a dozen of kids sitting on the floor, looking quite mesmerised as they listen to what Harry now recognises as the last book of _His Dark Materials_. He loved those books growing up; hopes Dylan will read them too in a few years. But he’s determined to only ever like Harry Potter at the moment. He doesn’t even know what Harry Potter is about. And that’s social influence at his best, Harry reckons. He can’t tell what has the kids so captivated, the story or the storyteller. The guy just sounds so lively, so passionate. It’s hard to be anything less than enthralled, really. Harry’s only seen the back of his head so far but he’s already charmed.

_“I’ll be looking for you, Will, every moment, every single moment. And when we do find each other again we’ll cling together so tight that nothing and no one’ll ever tear us apart.”_

A couple of boys make gagging sounds at that part and get death glares from most of the other kids, even the storyteller stops reading for a few seconds and Harry imagines he’s glaring at them too. Jordan notices Harry standing in the doorway and scrambles to his feet hastily, probably ready to go find Dylan as soon as Harry tells him where to look. Jordan’s one of the eldest kids at Mary Lennox, got placed here after his parents had been declared inept to raise him about five years ago. He was there when Dylan got brought in, a couple of weeks after the accident, and he took an immediate liking to him. He barely ever left his side in the year Dylan stayed at the centre, even camped out in the babies’ room when Harry couldn’t stay the night. He loves Dylan like a little brother, basically, and has formed a proper lifelong bond with him.

“Hi, Harry. Is Dylan here?” Jordan asks, just like Harry expected. He doesn’t wait for an answer, doesn’t need to, already knows Dylan always comes with Harry. He turns back to the storyteller, flashes his sweetest smile. “Can I go play outside, Louis?”

“Sure, just tell Georgia or Jamie that you’re out there.” The man, Louis, agrees easily.

Jordan nods quickly and rushes out of the room as fast as he can without being scolded. A few small hands rise in the air at once and Harry hears Louis sigh as he closes the book forcefully enough to make a sound.

“Yes, you can all go play outside. I’ll be right behind you.”   

The kids cheer as they stand up, mutter quick hellos to Harry on their way out of the room. Harry’s a little put out, used to warmer greetings from these people. Today’s just meant to suck from start to finish, apparently. He looks up and finds icy blue eyes staring at him. Louis has very beautiful eyes, bright and expressive, framed by long eyelashes. They look unreal, those eyes. And all the clichés lines about drowning into someone’s eyes are all starting to make a lot more sense to Harry.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve met yet.” Louis says, hesitant smile on his lips as a frown pulls at his eyebrows. His eyes aren’t the only beautiful things about him. His lips are a pretty shade of light pink, thin and smooth. His hair’s just on this side of long, artfully dishevelled with a soft-looking fringe. He’s got a bit of stubble too, something Harry’s usually not into but finds rather great on him. He could be a model, maybe just a little too short to be on a catwalk. “I’m Louis. I’m a new volunteer here.”

“Harry. And I’m not sure what I am here, to be honest.” Harry laughs, extending a hand for Louis to shake.

Louis looks at his hand with a smirk and grasps it firmly. A jolt of electricity runs along Harry’s arm when long fingers close around his own, startling him and making him let go of Louis’ hand way too soon for his liking. Louis is frowning at his hand, lower lip between his tiny teeth. It’s probably just static, Harry reasons. Louis shakes his head, as if to shake some thoughts out of his head. He’s about to say something when Lucinda bursts into the room to get him outside.

“See you around, Harry.”

“Yeah, see you.”

*********

Harry and Emily end up joining the other outside, sit on the porch with a glass of lemonade and reminisce about the year Dylan spent at Mary Lennox. Dylan took his first steps in the common room, babbled his first words to Emily, learned to use the potty with the workers. He should have done all this at home, with his family. Harry wishes he could rewrite the past sometimes but he can only learn to live with his regrets.

He watches Dylan now, laughing as he runs alongside Jordan, and he’s just so full of life. He’s alive. He was in the car that day, could have died along with the rest of their family. But he survived, a true miracle. He’s still here, alive and happy and healthy. And Harry needs to focus on that. He could have lost everything that day but didn’t. He needs to remember that life went on, is still going on.

Louis catches up to Dylan and Jordan, scoops the younger boy up and throws him over his shoulder. Dylan shrieks in surprise but soon resume laughing, kicking at the air as Louis carries him to the sidelines like a bag of potatoes. Harry can’t take his eyes off of the man. The white t-shirt has turned see-through because of the sweat and is clinging to his body like a second skin, revealing tattoos on his chest. His arms seem strong, biceps evident through the sleeves. He looks sinful. And he’s coming Harry’s way, Dylan still secured on his shoulder. Harry hopes he isn’t drooling.

“Is this little rascal’s yours?” Louis asks, putting Dylan down and ruffling his hair.

Dylan runs straight into Harry’s arms, cackling into his ear and rubbing sweat all over his clothes. He’s alive, Harry thinks again. He’s alive and he’s happy.

“Unfortunately.” Harry sighs, the grin on his face ruining his attempt to sound annoyed by that fact. He never thought he’d be raising a kid on his own, not at such a young age at least, but he never even considered abandoning Dylan. He sniffs Dylan’s hair and wrinkles his nose. “You, my dear Munchkin, are in dire need of a bath.”

“With bubbles?” Dylan asks, excited by the prospect of a bubble bath. He loves playing with the foam more than with his toys, probably. And Harry knows it will end with water all over the tiles and he will have to clean it all up before crashing into his bed but he nods anyway. “And good smelly ball too?”

“We’ll see.” Harry replies, straightening Dylan’s t-shirt and pushing his fringe out of his eyes. He really needs to take him to the hairdresser. “Alright, bugs, it’s time to go home and feed Niall.”

“Ah, I almost forgot the magnets!” Emily exclaims, struggling to push herself up. Louis moves to help her, taking her hands in his and pulling her up. She smiles at him, eyes crinkling with it, and Harry wonders idly how long Louis has been here for. “Alright, come with me, little man.”

Dylan takes the hand Emily’s offering to him, grinning happily at the prospect of completing his collection. Harry watches them disappear inside, smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he hears Dylan start to tell Emily about the magnets he already has at home.

“He’s a great kid, real cute too.” Louis says, grabbing a bottle of water out of the cooler and sitting next to Harry on the steps. “Looks a lot like his father.” 

Harry bursts out laughing, arm wrapping around his stomach as he bends with laughter. He glances at Louis, who seems quite unimpressed and confused. Harry tries to control his cackles, stop them long enough to explain. “Sorry, I just… Does that line ever work for you?”

“Never used it before.” Louis mumbles, taking a sip if the water, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. Harry’s eyes track the movement, drifts up to his lips as his tongue comes to lick at the last droplets. Harry shakes his head discreetly, feeling a little too uncomfortable in his jeans.

“I’m not even Dylan’s father so.” Harry shrugs, catching his lower lip between his teeth. He wishes there was an easy way to talk about this, how he came to raise Dylan on his own, but there isn’t. There’s no easy way to tell a stranger that their parents were killed in a car accident. He takes a deep breath, braces himself. “I’m only his brother. Our parents died a few years ago and that’s why he’s with me now.”

Louis doesn’t say anything to that, other than a quiet _‘Oh’_ , and Harry’s grateful for that. He’s tired of hearing _‘sorry’_ and _‘that’s so brave of you’._ It’s not brave of him. He didn’t have a choice, couldn’t let his baby brother be raised by strangers. It was never an option, not even when the judge told him he was too young and his financial situation too unstable to be Dylan’s legal guardian, thus in spite of his parents’ will.

“Well,” Louis breaks the silence, hesitant smile on his lips as he looks at Harry. “I guess I should have said Dylan’s just as cute as his brother then.”

Harry laughs again. He never thought he’d be laughing today, never thought he could even find it in himself to laugh today, and yet here he is. Louis might be a little magic. Harry quite likes him already.

*********

Harry dreams of icy blue eyes that night and of electricity coursing through his body. He dreams of smooth skin and black ink under his fingertips, his lips. He dreams of a melodious voice whispering his name over and over again, moaning it. He wakes up sweaty, confused and painfully hard. He balls his hands into fists, duvet soft under his fingers. He’s not going to pull one off to the thought of a guy he just met yesterday. He’s not that desperate. He conjures unpleasant thoughts, like having sex with a girl or Niall naked in the shower. It isn’t all that efficient, to be honest. He groans, gives up and slips a hand past the elastic of his boxers, banning all thoughts off Louis out of his head. His brain isn’t all that cooperative, though, and he might end up coming with a whimper of his name. He’ll just have to tell himself that no one will ever know.

*********

“I need to get laid.” Harry announces to Niall and Liam, casually sipping on his glass of wine while his friends choke on their beers. He’s been thinking about it since he came down from his shameful orgasm this morning. He hasn’t had sex with another human being in months, is clearly sexually frustrated, and that’s why he had that dream about Louis. He’s not actually attracted to the guy, he’s just in dire need of getting laid.

“Don’t just say shit like that when we’re drinking, man!”

“Sorry, Nialler. I’ll wait for you to swallow next time.” Harry smirks, making Liam snort and Niall glare. He takes another sip of wine for liquid confidence, ready to beg them for a night out in town. He can’t dream about Louis again, won’t be able to look him in the eyes anymore if he does. He’s already going to have a bit of trouble with that as it is. “I can’t even remember the last time I had sex, like it’s been that long! I seriously need to pull before I go bonkers!”

“Okay, and what brought this up? I mean, you’ve never seemed distraught about the last of sex in your life or anything.”

And that’s true. Harry hasn’t really given much thought to his lack of sex life before, has never really cared about it. He’s never felt like he’d stopped living when he’d gotten full custody of Dylan. He still goes out with Liam and Niall on weekends sometimes, leaving Dylan with Lucy. He even goes on the occasional dates once in a while. But he’s just not that into casual flings anymore, wants more than decent one-night stands or friendships with benefits. He wants a proper relationship now. It’s not easy to find a guy who won’t build at the first mention of Dylan, is the thing. So he’ll have to find satisfaction in what he can get for now.

“Can’t I just want to get properly fucked, Liam? Is it not allowed anymore?”

The bluntness of Harry’s answer makes Liam blush, his face turning as red as a tomato. Harry smirks over the rim of his glass, pretty smug. He’s always been amused by how easy it is to get Liam all flustered. And it’s a good way to put an end to a conversation he’d rather not have right now. He knows all signs seems to indicate that Louis is the reason why he’s feeling so sexually frustrated all of a sudden but he doesn’t want to think about what it could mean, not yet.

“Well, if you want to get laid so bad then it’s our duty to get you laid.” Niall sighs, finishing his beer in one go and putting the bottle on the table.

“Why would it be our duty?”

“We’re his best friends and we want him to be happy.” Niall states simply, leaving no room for arguments. Liam must think so too because he just leans further into his chair and pouts in silence. “Alright, where should we go to mingle?”

*********

“I want go with you!” Dylan cries, arms tightening around Harry’s neck as Lucy tries to dislodge him gently. “I will be a good bit, I promise, please!”

Harry can feel his resolve crumble with every sob, his guilt grow with every plea. He knows he shouldn’t give in to Dylan’s demands but he really can’t bear seeing him so upset. And he’s never done this before, is the thing. He might pout a little sometimes, might refuse to say goodbye to Harry to drive his point home, but he doesn’t usually cling to Harry like that. He doesn’t usually cry. And Harry doesn’t know what to do. He looks at Lucy over Dylan’s shoulder, silently pleading her to help out. She’s just as clueless as he is, though, has never faced this situation either. He wishes he could ask his mum. She’d know what to do. She always knew what to do. He thinks back to his own tantrums, tries to remember how she dealt with them. Compromise. She always tried to find a compromise. He grips Dylan’s arms gently and pulls him away a little, just enough to see his face.

“You’re going to have a great time with Lucy tonight, watch movies until late and eat way too many sweets.” Harry smiles, wiping Dylan’s tears with his thumb. He usually pretends to not know what they do during their movie nights but he feels like Dylan needs the reminder right now. “I’ll pick you up in the morning and we’ll do something real fun together, just you and me, whatever you want.”

“You will come back for me tomorrow, you promise?” Dylan sniffles, small hands coming up to frame Harry’s face and keep it in place as he locks eyes with him.

Harry frown, a little surprised and a lot confused. He has left Dylan with Lucy so many times over the years but he’s never expressed this fear of being left here. Harry can’t think of a single thing that happened recently to make Dylan think he could ever abandon him. There’s been no indication of it whatsoever.

“I will always come back for you, Dylan, always and forever.”

“But you are sad with me! You was sad yesterday and you are sad today and you leave me here because I make you sad!”

Harry’s heart shatters at the words, tears welling up in his eyes as Dylan shakes in his arms. He pulls him into the tightest of hugs, one hand tangled in his curls and the other rubbing circles on his back, trying to soothe him. He thought he’d done a good job pretending to be okay the last couple of days but Dylan clearly is more observant than Harry gives him credit for.

“I love you, Dyl, so much I feel like my heart is going to burst with it sometimes. And there are days when I am a little sad, yes, but I’m always the happiest when I’m with you.” Harry says, voice soft but firm. He doesn’t want to leave any room for doubts, wants it to be clear in Dylan’s mind that he’s important to him. He’s Harry’s number one priority, will always be Harry’s number one priority, and he needs to know it. He should cancel his night out, maybe. Meaningless sex really isn’t worth Dylan’s misery.

“I love you too.” Dylan sniffles, wiping his snotty nose with his sleeve as the last of his tears slide down his chin. “You can go with Niall and Liam but you promise you will come back.”

“I promise I’ll come back.” Harry smiles softly, kissing Dylan’s wet cheeks and tasting the salt of his tears. He holds a hand up, pinkie finger held up to link with Dylan’s. “You’re stuck with me, Munchkin, whether you like it or not.”

*********

They decide to take Eoghan’s pub first. Niall’s friend has crashed on their couch often enough that he feels obligated to give them half-priced pints of whatever they fancy every time they go to his bar, which usually allows them to get a good buzz without emptying their bank accounts. Harry has been sipping on the same cocktail since they arrived about an hour ago, hasn’t even tried to talk to anyone yet. He knows most of the guys here, knows they are as straight as they come. He won’t find his hook-up here, he’s quite sure of that. He’s a little too preoccupied to flirt anyway, just can’t stop thinking about what happened with Dylan earlier. He feels queasy; worried he won’t be able to help his brother through this. He’s still thinking about going home and cuddling Dylan to death. But he can’t exactly bolt, not when he’s the one who convinced his friends to go out in the first place. Dylan seemed to be fine when he left anyway, and Lucy sent him a picture of the little boy stuffing his face with homemade pizza, smiling and looking as happy as always.

“Ah, I thought I’d recognised those luscious curls of yours!”

Harry startles at the sound of the voice that haunted his dreams last night and prompted him to beg his friends for a night out in town. He almost chokes on his straw when his eyes land on Louis, looking ever better than the day before. He’s all dressed in black except for the white Converse on his feet, a sleeveless top revealing a splatter of tattoos and skinny jeans hugging his curves to perfection. Harry’s pretty sure he’s going to have a dream or two about these strong thighs of his. He’s got his hair in a quiff today, is freshly shaved and smelling strongly of aftershave. He really is looking great, elegant. Harry wonders if he has plans for later, maybe a date with a hot person. He must be asked out a fair lot, beautiful as he is. Harry shakes the thought out of his head and slides out of the booth.

“Louis, hi!” Harry smiles, offering a hand for Louis to shake. Louis just looks at it for a moment, seems a little wary of it for some reason. And Harry remembers what happened the day before, the electric shock they both felt when they shook hands at the homecare, but he doesn’t understand why Louis would be troubled by it. He lets his hand fall by his side none the less, feeling a little awkward as he’s not sure where to go from there. “I didn’t expect to ever find you in a pub.”

“Did you think I was a recluse, staying at home every night to watch some reality TV garbage and live tweeting it?”

Harry’s gaze zeroes in on Louis’ smirking lips. They’re looking so inviting right now. All of him is looking inviting right now, to be honest, and Harry’s dying to accept the invitation. But tonight’s all about getting Louis out of his head so spending more time with him might prove to be slightly counterproductive. He flicks his gaze back to Louis’ bright blue eyes, notices they appear to be a bit darker than they were yesterday but assumes it’s just a trick of the light.

“Sort of, yeah, except I imagined you staying home to watch romantic comedies and weep at the happy ending.”

The pub’s busy tonight and pretty noisy but the sound of Louis’ laughter reaches Harry’s ears as clearly as if they were the only ones in an empty room. It feels a lot like it too, like everyone’s disappeared and there’s only Louis left. Harry could look at Louis forever, doesn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing his face and hearing his voice. He just met the guy yesterday and he’s already so infatuated with him. He’s going crazy, completely bonkers. It’s the only explanation he can think of.

He’s startled out of the moment by Niall wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pressing his body against his side. He smells strongly of beer and vodka, is clearly well on his way to wasted already. Harry will probably have to drag his drunk arse home before they even hit the club.

“So there are guys here who are doing a bar-a-thon and I decided we were going to join them.” Niall announces, grinning from ear to ear, completely oblivious to Louis’ presence. “So I know we’re on a mission to get you laid tonight but…”

Harry claps a hand over Niall’s mouth, to stop him from saying anything more. He’s going to kill him, make it a painful death. His lack of brain to mouth filter has always been quite a problem. It has led them into tricky situations and caused a lot of embarrassment. And yet, Harry’s never hated Niall’s condition more than he does right now. He can feel a blush warm his cheeks as he glances at Louis and catches him smirking, teeth biting the corner of his lower lip hard enough to turn it white. He definitely heard that then. Harry’s going to dismember Niall. He yelps when Niall licks his palm, takes his hand off his mouth and wipes it clean on his shirt with a disgusted glare. Niall lays a slobbery kiss on his cheek and turns to face Louis, grin still on his lips.

“Hi, I’m Niall, Harry’s best friend!”

“Former best friend.” Harry corrects Niall. He may or may not be trying to send daggers through his heart with his eyes, hoping the invisibility won’t keep them from hurting. He needs to get his head checked, seriously. “I’m revoking your privileges, effective right now.”

“I’m Louis, just a regular friend of Harry.”

Harry’s surprised by Louis’ use of the word ‘friend’ to describe their relationship. He’s a little bit confused too. They’ve only just met yesterday, know absolutely nothing about each other. Louis doesn’t even want to touch his hand in case he’d get electrocuted or something. They are still a long way from being friends, basically. They barely even are acquaintances at this point. And yet Louis sounded so sincere, his eyes alight when they settle on Harry’s face.

“I didn’t know Harry had other friends.”

Harry slaps Niall on the back of the head, slightly offended by the insinuation. He’s more of a social butterfly than Niall could ever hope to be. He just doesn’t go out as often lately, doesn’t meet many new people he can befriend anymore. And even if he did, he couldn’t just let anyone and everyone in. He’s not really alone anymore and the choices he makes are affecting Dylan’s life as much as his. He’ll always have to think of him now, of what his decisions will entail for his brother. He just can’t bring people in his life if they’re going to turn around and walk away at the problem.

“Louis volunteers at Mary Lennox. That’s where we met.” Harry says, finding a sudden interest for the dirty floorboard. He wonders how many people threw up in the spot he’s currently standing on.

“Ah, I guess you know Dylan too, then?”

“Yeah, he’s a great kid. Harry’s doing a pretty good job with him, isn’t he?”

Harry looks up, eyes immediately finding Louis’. And the rest of the world fades in the background, disappears completely to leave only Harry and Louis. He can’t even feel Niall’s arm on his shoulders anymore, can’t smell his beer breath. He can only see the softness in Louis’ eyes, in his smile. And it’s all that matters right now. He wonders if Louis feels the same way, if he too is oblivious to everything that’s not them.

“Hey, you should join us for that bar-a-thon thing!” Niall enthuses, inadvertently breaking yet another moment between Harry and Louis. He must have a death wish. He’s being a cockblock more than a wingman so far tonight but Harry won’t call him out on him because he doesn’t want to get it on with Louis. He doesn’t want to get it on with anyone, really. “It’s going to be so epic!”

Louis bursts out laughing, closed eyes crinkling at the corners. Harry and Niall share a confused look, similar frowns on both their faces.

 *********

It turns out that Louis is already doing a bar-a-thon with his friends, who happen to be the same guys Niall talked to. And that’s why Louis cracked up when Niall invited him, not because he’s crazy. He introduces Harry to his friends once he’s calmed down enough to talk and explains to him that the bar-a-thon is a tradition they started when they all moved to different part of the country. It’s sort of their way to make sure they’ll see each other no matter where they are and what they do. He tells him that it usually takes place in Sheffield, where the tradition started, but since he couldn’t make it this year, because of his internship, his friends decided to tweak things a little. He’s that important to them. Harry thinks it says a lot about the kind of person Louis is and he really likes what it says. He really likes Louis. And it’s just so crazy. He’s just met him, barely knows anything about him. But he likes him and it feels right to be with him.

Louis has barely left Harry’s side so far and he’s gotten increasingly more tactile with every drink he had. He sits so close to him their thighs are pressed together, walks close enough that their hands are constantly brushing. He links arms with him on their way to the next pub, leads him inside with a hand on the small of his back. He runs his fingers through his hair, places loose strands behind his ear and tugs at his curls. There’s a constant stream of electricity coursing up Harry’s spine all night and it only intensifies every time Louis touches him.

Harry feels like he’s falling too fast, diving headfirst and spinning out of control. And he doesn’t know what to make of it but it scares him all the same.

They’re on their way to the sixth pub of the night now, all of them a little more than tipsy at this point. Louis is glued to Harry’s side again, arm wrapped tightly around his waist and leaning against his side. He’s talking about his childhood, words a little slurred as he remembers how much of a menace he used to be. Harry’s learned quite a lot about Louis through his ramblings. He’s learned that Louis has four half-sisters, that his mum is pregnant again and that he hopes he’ll finally get a brother this time. He also finds out that Louis didn’t go to University at the same time as his friends to help his mum out after her divorce but always had plans to go eventually. He only left home to start his degree in social work after she got remarried, confident that her new husband would take good care of his girls. Harry’s heart warm up with the amount of love Louis has for his family.

“Hey, is that a playground over there?” Louis asks, pointing at what looks like a slide and swings on the other side of the road. “Can we go, please? I really want to go! Let’s go!”

Louis is bouncing on his feet, looking at Harry with sparkles in his eyes. He grabs Harry’s hand, his fingers slipping in the spaces between Harry’s so naturally, and drags him across the road without even waiting for an answer. Harry has never seen an adult get so excited about a playground, whether they are drunk or not. And he’s been friend with Niall for years so. He’s not surprised, though, not really. Louis does seem like the kind of person who finds happiness in everything. Harry likes that in someone, likes it a lot.

Louis goes to the slide first, only lets go of Harry’s hand to climb up the ladder. Harry moves to the side to avoid staring at his arse, even if he could probably get away with it. The playground’s dark enough that they can hardly see more than silhouettes so Louis wouldn’t be able to tell where his eyes are focused. But he doesn’t feel like risking it. He’s too drunk to control his body’s reaction and he doesn’t feel like embarrassing himself tonight. Louis stops at the top of the ladder to survey the slope, one knee already inside the small shed.

“Scared your arse will get stuck?” Harry taunts, smirk already forming on his lips as Louis turns his head to look at him. He might not be able to see his face but he can picture it perfectly, the amusement in his eyes and the curl to his lips. And he so wishes he could see his face, misses it too much already.

Louis gasps in mock offense, bringing a hand to his chest. “Are you implying I have a big arse, Harold?”

“I may be” Harry replies, laughter in his voice as Louis tries to swat him behind the head. “It’s a lovely bum, though.”

Louis laughs, head thrown back as the sound echoes through the empty park. He’s still chuckling when he crawls fully into the shed, wriggling around to fit in the small space as he tries to sit at the edge of the gutter. Harry walks closer to the bottom, ready to help Louis down if he actually does get stuck. He notices five silhouettes walking in their directions and feels a pang of disappointment. He sort of hoped their friends wouldn’t find them so quickly, hoped he could have this moment alone with Louis.

Louis barrels into him while he’s distracted and knocks him off his feet, punching the breath out of him. Harry hisses as pain shoots through his back, his tailbones throbbing from the shock. He closes his eyes, takes a couple of deep breaths. There’s a cool hand on his cheek all of a sudden, fingers brushing his skin so delicately. He opens his eyes to see Louis kneeling next to him, face dangerously close to his own. It’d be so easy to kiss him right now, would take little to no effort to close the distance between them. He catches Louis’ eyes, so soft as they hold his gaze, and leans up just as Louis leans down, shaky breaths mingling and tickling their lips. Harry closes his eyes again, lips parting in preparation…

“Told you they’d be here!”

Harry and Louis jerk apart at the sound of Stan’s voice, Louis falling on his arse as he bursts out laughing. Harry just scrambles back up, feeling a little morose. He grimaces at the pulsing ache in his back. He’s pretty sure it’s going to bruise. Liam’s by his side in the blink of an eye, concern written all over his face. He rests a hand on the small of Harry’s back, making Harry groan in pain.

“Are you okay? Should we take you to the hospital or maybe just go home?” Liam asks in a whisper, fingers tugging at the hem of Harry’s shirt.

Harry knows Liam’s hitching to lift it up and assess the damage. He also knows he’s not going to do it without permission. Harry looks at Louis, now standing on top of the shed with Calvin, cackling as he watches hid friend struggle to stay upright. Harry’s parental instinct kicks in and begs him to yell at them to come down unless they want to break their necks. He might be in a lot of pain right now but he doesn’t want the night to end yet. He doesn’t want to say goodbye to Louis yet.

“I’m fine , Li, just going to have a nasty bruise.” Harry assures, forcing a smile on his face and hoping it’ll be enough to convince the mother hen that is Liam. He just wants to have fun, doesn’t feel like dealing with his concerned nagging all night. He grits his teeth through the few steps it takes to get to the swings and sits next to Niall. The blonde’s been watching him with a knowing look ever since he arrived at the playground but the smirk only appears when Harry joins him. “Just shut up, please.”

“I haven’t even said anything yet!” Niall protests, feet digging holes in the sand under the swings as he slows to a stop. Harry’s still glaring at him, knowing him well enough to have an educated guess on what will come out of his mouth next. “You’re so totally getting laid tonight, mate!”

Harry grabs the chains of Niall’s swing, twists them together and watches Niall spin on himself, both of them laughing loudly.

*********

Harry doesn’t get laid, doesn’t even get kissed for that matter. He does get hugged a lot, though, tight enough to squeeze the air out of him. And Louis’ number is added to his contacts list somehow. He finds it in there when he’s looking for the taxi company’s number. He doesn’t even remember giving his phone to Louis at any point of the night. He does remember, however, leaving it unattended a couple of times so that’s probably when Louis entered his number in his contacts. He doesn’t know what to make of it but he’s too drunk to give it much thought tonight. He’ll try to make sense of everything once he’ll have recovered from the hangover he’s sure to have in the morning.

Louis pulls him into another hug when the taxi stops a bit further down the road, holds him close and tight again. Harry closes his eyes and squeezes him just as tight, breathing in the sweet smell of his shampoo. He wishes he didn’t have to let go, wishes he could stay in Louis’ arms all night. But he’s too drunk for anything to happen between them, wants to be sober enough to remember their first time together. And he’s not even sure he’ll be able to get it up anyway. He just hopes he’s not missing out on his only occasion to get with Louis. It’d be a bummer.

“I will kiss you one day, Harry Styles.” Louis whispers in Harry’s ear, warm breath tickling his skin and fingers digging into his hips. “And I will kiss you every day after that.

*********

Harry’s head throbbing rather painfully when he wakes up, feels like a drummer might be rehearsing some parts in his brain. He feels like he might puke all over Lucy’s sweet smelling sheets if he moves even just a toe. He doesn’t have many regrets in life but drinking a dozen of cocktails in one night has just made it to the top of the list. He’s not new to the art of getting wasted, knows better than to have too many mixed drinks. He hates himself a little for that one, honestly. He wonders how the others are doing. They were all completely sloshed by the time they decided to call it a night, he remembers that much. He hopes Niall’s suffering right now. He deserves all the pain for taking them on that bar-a-thon with Louis.

Harry’s head throbs even more painfully at the mere thought of Louis. He didn’t think it was even possible, not when he already felt like it was about to explode. He groans and pushes his face deeper into the pillow, the scene of vanilla hitting his nostrils aggressively. He’ll never be able to look Louis in the eyes again. He was so embarrassing, attaching himself to Louis like a nasty leech. He almost kissed him, would have kissed him if their friends hadn’t walked in on them. But Louis was going to kiss him, looked like he wanted to just as much as Harry did. He looked like he wanted to pin him against the cement and dry-hump him, really. But there was a softness in his eyes too, something that wasn’t just lust. Harry doesn’t believe in love at first sight. He’s not even sure he believes in love at all. Yet here he is, irremediably and unquestionably falling for a guy he’s only just met a couple of days ago. He’s so fucked. And his head’s killing him.

The door creaks open, the sound of it resonating inside of his skull like a drill. He barely has time to open his eyes that a heavy weight lands on his back. And he’s suddenly reminded of the fall that proceeded the almost kiss. He grits his teeth to not scream as pain shoots through his spine. He must have one hell of a bruise there, isn’t looking forward to seeing the damages. Dylan stretches across his back, his warm breath fanning over Harry’s cheek. Harry reaches behind him to tickle Dylan, his laughter loud in the otherwise quiet house. He feels like his head is going to explode soon. He’s in dire need of water and painkillers. He stops with his hand on Dylan’s hip, giving it a light push to get him to roll off his back and onto the mattress. It works, surprisingly enough. Harry moves on his side to face Dylan, sees how happy he looks and feels his heart expands. And he knows that his brother’s abandonment issues haven’t magically disappeared overnight, knows it might very well come back next time he’ll try to leave him with Lucy for the night, but he’ll take the short respite. He’s too hangover to deal with it now.

“I want go to the zoo today.” Dylan announces, might as well be yelling for how loud his voice sounds to Harry’s sensitive ears. The last thing he wants to do today is spend hours in a noisy environment but he did promise Dylan they’d do whatever he wanted to and it wouldn’t help Dylan’s fear of being left behind if he came back on his word. And he’d probably have a hardest time letting go of the idea that he’s making his brother sad. So Harry will go to the zoo even if it might very well kill him. He’ll just have to stock up on painkillers. “We can see the monkeys first?”

Harry would try to remember where the monkeys are situated before giving in to Dylan’s demand but his brain’s hurting too much and he’d rather not use it. He’ll rent a stroller if he has to. He’s pretty sure Dylan still fits in them. It’ll be better than to carry him on his shoulders when he gets tired. “Yeah, sure, we’ll go see the monkeys first.”

Dylan’s face lights up, eyes glistening with happiness as he wraps his small arms around Harry’s neck and buries his face in his t-shirt. It’s a rather awkward hug but Harry doesn’t want it to end. Dylan pulls away too quickly for his liking, crawling off the bed like it’s on fire.

“I go tell Lucy!”

Dylan flees out of the room as fast as he came in, singing about seeing monkeys on the way to wherever Lucy is. Harry would take Dylan to the zoo every day for the rest of his life if it always made him this happy. He sits up against the headboard, grimacing at the soreness that took over his entire body. He’s getting too old for the kind of night he had yesterday. And there’s nothing he’d like more than to stay in bed all day, sleep off his hangover and wait for his body to stop hurting. He should probably not spend the whole day walking around a crowded zoo. He’s going to die. He’s not sure he likes his life very much right now anyway. He grabs his phone, blinks at the sudden light and groans when the number on top of the screen comes into focus. He’s feeling like death warmed over and it’s too early to be awake. He frowns as he notices texts from Louis in his inbox, right above Niall’s. He doesn’t remember getting Louis’ number, is the thing, but he only has a handful of blurry memories of the night after the sixth pub so it’s not surprising, really. What is surprising, however, is the fact that Louis has already texted him. He’d never have pegged him for an early riser, especially not after the night they had.

> **_Hello Harold !!! Ur number mysterly apeared in my phone !!! & u say u dont believe in magic !!!_ **
> 
> **_I feel lik a shitty rock band moved in2 my brain & try 2 make it explode. or is it implode? I hurt :( :(_ **
> 
> **_Its louis btw. hope y rmr me. culd be awks if u dont…_ **

Harry chuckles, lips curling into a smile. It’s just a few silly messages, nothing of importance is even said in them. And yet he feels a burst of happiness swell inside his chest. He doesn’t usually let people come close to him so easily, so fast. He’s always taken his time entering new friendships and relationships, even before he had Dylan to take into consideration. But this thing he has with Louis, whatever it is, is unfolding at the speed of light and he doesn’t want it to slow down. He doesn’t even recognise himself anymore, not when it comes to Louis. It sort of scares him shitless, to be honest.

> _I couldn’t forget you if I tried… I’ve got a massive bruise on my back to remember you by…_

Harry hits send before he can second-guess it and puts his phone back on the bedside table. He pushes the duvet off his legs and sits on the edge of the bed, quickly scanning the floor in search of his clothes. He curses his drunk self for his lack of organisation. He locates his jeans by the door and his t-shirt at the end of the bed, his socks nowhere to be seen. His phone vibrates with a new text just as he gets up to pick his clothes up. He sits again and takes his phone, grin on his face as he sees Louis’ name on the screen.

> **_How the fuck did I bruise ur back ???_ **

Harry laughs, wonders if they are at the point of their friendship where they can make sexual jokes without things being awkward after. He reckons they haven’t moved that fast, though. He also doesn’t know how Louis would react to it, would rather not try his luck and offend him or something.

> _Pillowed your big arse after you thought you were Peter Pan…_

He pushes himself up again, phone still in hand as he goes to get his jeans from the floor. He grimaces when he smells it; the stench of alcohol and smoke is very strong. He can’t go to the zoo reeking of alcohol and smoke. There always are a lot of kids there; it’d be beyond inappropriate. He’s going to have to ask Liam to lend him some of his clothes, a nightmare of his since Liam started to dress like a wannabe r&b singer. His phone vibrates in his hand, pushing all thoughts of Liam’s lack of fashion sense out of his head.

> **_U looooooove my arse & think its puuuuuuurtfect dont lie_ **

Harry almost drops his phone on the carpet, jaw going slack as he reads the words again. So it seems they are at the point in their friendship where they can joke about those things after all. He can’t believe Louis actually went there, though. But he does like his arse, possibly thinks it’s a proper work of art and pretty close to perfection. He’s not going to say that to Louis, though.

> _Don’t think your arse & I are acquainted enough to talk about love…_

He hesitates, a finger hovering over the keyboard for a long moment. It’s such a small word and it’d be so easy to add it but it’s charged with so much meaning. He types it slowly, just to know what the sentence sounds like with it.  

> _Don’t think your arse & I are acquainted enough to talk about love yet…_

He deletes the last word quickly. It feels like admitting he believes he’ll be in love with Louis eventually. And he does think he will be, in all honesty. He thinks he might already be falling in love with him. But he’s not ready to say. So he sends the text without the added word, puts his phone down and folds his clothes. He resists the urge to check Louis’ text as soon as he gets it, fails quite spectacularly.

> **_Never heard of love @ 1 st sight harold ??_ **

Harry’s next breath is shaky at best and he suddenly feels unsteady on his legs. He knows Louis is just joking, isn’t actually saying they’re a beautiful case of love at first sight. He’s not saying he’s in love with him. Harry takes in a deep breath, the air burning in his struggling lungs, and types in a short reply that won’t reveal too much of his current train of thoughts.

> _Not when talking about bums, no._

He puts his phone on top of his folded clothes at the foot of the bed and walks out of the room, deliberately leaving the device behind. He has to get ready now and has an inkling he’ll take a lot more time than he actually has at his disposal if he keeps texting Louis.

*********

Harry spends the next couple of weeks more or less glued to his phone, texting Louis throughout the day. He messages him as soon as he wakes up, writes to him every time there’s a lull in the flow of customers at the bakery and doesn’t go to bed before he’s got a chance to say goodnight. He only puts his phone down when he’s with Dylan, wants to give all of his focus to his brother rather than to his new pen-pal. He still spends these few hours looking forward to getting his phone back. It’s just so easy, talking to Louis. They talk about everything and anything, share their thoughts and life stories, joke and banter. And it’s all so natural between them that Harry often feels like he’s known Louis for years rather than days. He still feels like he’s falling too fast, still can’t make sense of their friendship’s quick growth. But he’s not scared anymore. He’s just happy.

Niall’s the first to notice Harry’s joyful mood, quickly links it to his newfound attachment to his phone and starts to question him on the identity of his pen pal. He figures out Harry’s been texting Louis after just a couple of days, mostly because he looks at his phone when he forgets on the coffee table one night. He shares the information with Liam as soon as he gets the chance to, making it sound like Harry and Louis have been secretly fucking rather than just texting. And Liam does take it that way at first, eyes avoiding Harry’s and blush rising on his cheeks. He doesn’t make a big deal out of it, just says that Louis seems to be a decent guy and congratulates him on his good taste. And because, apparently, married couples shouldn’t have secrets for each other even if it’s not theirs to share, Liam tells his wife as soon as he gets home. Lucy, of course, declares that she needs to meet Louis before anything can happen between them.

Louis doesn’t even have time to meet up with Harry, though. He barely even has time to sleep from what he tells Harry. He only has a couple of weeks left to complete his internship and needs to revise for finals on top of that. So he spends most of the day working at the hospital and most of the night studying at the library and only sleeps a handful of hours every now and then. He does try to make time to see Harry anyway, tries to free his Saturdays to be at the homecare when he goes to visit with Dylan, but it happens to be the only time slot all of his study group can meet. He promises they will make up for lost time at least once a day. Harry believes him.

*********

Harry’s helping set up the barbecue for Emily’s May Day Luncheon when Louis arrives at the institute, dressed in a low-cut tank top and denim shorts and white converse. He’s just as beautiful as Harry remembers, just looks a little paler than he was last time they saw each other, more tired too. But he’s not supposed to be here, is the thing. He’s supposed to be locked up in his flat, studying for his finals. He told Harry that it was his only plan for the bank holiday weekend, never even mentioned having lunch at Mary Lennox. Harry has had dreams in which he was finally seeing Louis again and he isn’t completely sure this isn’t one of them. They don’t usually wear so many clothes, though, in his dreams. But the soreness of his arms doesn’t feel made-up. Louis really is here. He is just a few steps away and Harry can’t get to him because he has to hold the barbecue upright while George tries to remember where he’s put the other two legs. He might just let go of the thing and run to Louis’ side, find a way to get another barbecue if he breaks it. He’s pretty sure Liam has one. And it has all four legs, too. Louis must have finally noticed him, his lips stretching into a grin as he turns his head in Harry’s direction. Harry flashes a smile of his own. And his arms are so heavy now, might fall off soon. He’d very much like to hug Louis before he loses them forever. It’s his smile he loses when the woman Louis is talking to claims his attention with a hand on his arm. He feels the strange and unpleasant urge to pounce on the girl and claw her face off. It’s startling. He’s not usually the jealous type but it seems Louis awakes many uncharted feelings in him. Relief floods through his veins when Louis shakes her hand off of him, quickly wrapping up their conversation. He wastes no time walking towards Harry, his grin growing wider the closer he gets. And his collarbones are on display, thin hair peaking out over the top of his shirt and dark inks enhanced by the new pallor of his skin. Harry wants to lick the letters on his chest one by one, take his time with it, make Louis writhe and ask for more.

“Harold, hey! Long time no see!” Louis exclaims when he finally reaches Harry, stopping so close to him that the tips of their shoes are almost touching. He has beautiful eyes, very blue and expressive. Harry had almost forgotten.

“Ah, found it!” George shouts suddenly, holding the missing barbecue legs in his hands and rushing back to Harry’s side. He comes to a stop next to Louis, scans the floor quickly and frowns. “Right, where are the instructions?”

Harry’s seething, blowing air through his nose while weighing the pros and cons of dropping the barbecue on George’s feet. He could blame it on his tired arms and no one would even blink an eye, not after he’s spent ten minutes holding the thing up. He’s about to yell at George to just shove the rod inside the hole and screw it tight, puns totally unintended, but Louis snatches the bars out of his hands and drops to his knees. His face is only a hair’s breadth from Harry’s crotch while he tries to put the metal leg in place. Harry has to bite the inside of his cheek to not groan at the visual this situation’s putting in his mind. He closes his eyes, takes a couple of deep breaths to calm down. He’s in the backyard of a childcare centre; it’d be widely inappropriate to pop a boner right now. Also, Louis just couldn’t miss it, which would make everything that little bit more embarrassing.

“It’s okay, Curly, you can let go.” Louis’ voice breaks through Harry’s daze, fingers closing around Harry’s painful wrists and thumbs drawing circles over his pulse point. He’s gentle, his touch soft. Harry opens his eyes slowly and blinks the blurredness away. Louis is smiling, soft and sweet. Harry wonders what his lips taste like. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Harry croaks, voice coming out rougher than it should. He coughs to clear it. Louis’ thumbs are still drawing random patterns on his skin, though, so it’s unlikely he will sound any better. He might have to pretend he’s starting to get sick. “I thought you were going to study all weekend.”

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t stay away from you anymore.” Louis says, lips curled into a lopsided grin and eyes shining with mischief. He doesn’t sound like he’s joking, is the thing. He squeezes Harry’s hands lightly, his face softening all of a sudden. “I missed you so much, Curly.”

Harry’s heart skips a beat, breath stuck in his throat and hands shaking where they’re still locked with Louis. And it’s not that he’s surprised by Louis’ words. He has hinted at it before, in more than one message. He’s said many times that he couldn’t wait to see him again. And he might have turned it into a joke more often than not, adding that he just wanted to touch his magical curls for luck or get high on his sweet smell, but Harry can recognise a defence mechanism when he sees one. He, himself, is a master at deflecting. He doesn’t want to protect himself from this, though. He catches Louis’ eyes, a small smile pulling at his lips.

“I missed you too, Shorty.”

Harry gets slapped on the arm for that nickname, still makes a mental note to use it again and as often as possible.

*********

“What this one?” Dylan asks, poking the four small birds tattooed on Louis’ arm with greasy fingers. Harry’s given up on trying to wipe them clean every time he jabs at Louis’ skin, all too aware of how useless it is when he just keeps eating crisps in between questions. And Louis doesn’t seem too bother by it anyway.

“Ah, these are for my sisters. Each bird represents one of them and I’ll get two more for the new babies soon.” Louis explains, a soft look on his face as he thumbs at the ink on his skin.

“Harry have a D on his shoulder for me.” Dylan announces proudly, reaching out to tug at Harry’s t-shirt and uncover his shoulder to show the letter tattooed on there. And it’s not how Harry imagined stripping for Louis, honestly. “He have an A for Anne on his other shoulder; it’s my mummy’s name.”

Harry brings a hand to his left shoulder, where he got the A tattooed on the first anniversary of the accident. He was a little more than drunk when he went to the tattoo parlour but he’s never regretted getting it. He’s never regretted getting any of his tattoos, in all honesty, not even the silliest ones. They all tell a story, all have a sentimental value. He wonders if Louis feels the same about his tattoos. 

“It was my first tattoo, this one.” Louis says when Dylan’s fingers move to the stickman on a skateboard. “I wanted it to be special so I drew it myself.”

“You is not a very good drawer.” Dylan declares, wriggling on Louis’ laps to get at his other arm. It’s significantly less covered than the other one, Harry’s noticed. “It looks all empty. Harry have an empty arm too.”

“I’ve noticed, yeah.” Louis chuckles, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he glances at Harry’s right arm. He turns back to the little boy on his laps, smirk on his lips. He leans in closer to Dylan, talks directly into his ear. “I have wondered why he’s got nothing on there since I met him, to be honest with you. Do you know why?”

“There’s no actual reason for it, really. It just sort of happened, you know?” Harry shrugs, frowning at the lack of ink on his right arm. He’s never given it much of a thought, to be honest. He’s just always reckoned he’ll start getting little doodles on this arm when he’ll run out of space on the other. It’s not out of the common, really.

“I want to play now.” Dylan announces, using Louis’ legs as a slide and giggling when Louis makes him bounce a couple of times. He scrambles back on his feet quickly and turns to Harry, baby teeth on display when he grins widely. “I can go play, please?”

Harry grabs a napkin to clean the grease off of Dylan’s fingers and the chocolate around his mouth, bopping him on the nose once he’s done. “Now you can go.”

Dylan crawls on Harry’s laps to kiss his cheek, scrambles back down and does the same with Louis. He doesn’t pause after it, just runs to the other kids like it’s totally normal for him to kiss a man he’s just been properly introduced to a few hours ago on the cheek. He usually takes much more time to get this comfortable with people, needs to reach a certain level of trust first. He’s a lot like Harry on this point. So the fact that he’s already feeling so cosy with Louis might not be so surprising after all. Harry turns back to Louis, finds him watching Dylan play with a smile wide enough to make the corners of his eyes crinkle. And his heart’s suddenly bursting with so much affection he fears it might explode.

“Are you going to disappear again after today?” Harry asks, distracting himself by tearing off his paper towel. He likes Louis’ company, likes to hear his voice and see the crinkles by his eyes. So he understands that Louis needs to focus on his studies right now but he still wishes he had time to hang out anyway. Given the choice, he’d rather get to know him face to face rather than through texts. He might finally be able to make sense of these feelings he has for Louis if he could actually spend time with him.

“Don’t think I will.” Louis says, sounding thoughtful and uncertain. He’s looking at Harry with a frown, lips curled into a pout and eyes locked on Harry’s. “I just can’t stay away from you anymore.”

*********

Harry isn’t expecting to see Louis again until after his last exam, assumes he will just go back to his hermit ways in spite of what he said on May Day. So he’s more than a little surprised to see him at the bakery just a few days after the luncheon, standing behind a group of teenagers in the queue. He’s looking a little antsy, messing with his fringe and shifting from one foot to the other, his gaze never really focusing on anything. Harry’s lips turn into a lopsided grin as he watches him from the doorway. He takes the hairnet off, fluffs his hair as best as he can and steps fully into the main room. And he wishes he had time to sneak into the lockers room to freshen up a bit. Louis’ eyes shift to the counter just as Harry settles behind the glass display, almost as if he’d felt his presence. And the world doesn’t disappear when they lock eyes, the Earth doesn’t stop turning and time doesn’t freeze or slow down. But Harry’s heart does beat faster and his hands do get sweaty and his legs do feel wobbly. Louis steps out of the queue, his grin widening the closer he gets to Harry.

“Harold, what a nice surprise to see you here!” Louis exclaims when he reaches the counter, eyes crinkled at the corners. He’s fidgeting with the straps of his backpack, seeming even more nervous than before.

“I work here.” Harry deadpans, blinking in confusion. He’s pretty sure he talked about the bakery a few times, definitely talked about Liz and Maggie and Michael. He might not have mentioned the bakery’s name, though, rarely does. And there are quite a few bakeries in town. But there are only three that doubles as a coffee shop and the other two are on the other side of town. There’s one right next to the campus. There’s literally no reason for Louis to be here today. “Are you here to see me, Louis?”

The blush on Louis’ face and the hand he brings to his hair is answer enough for Harry. Louis just showed up at his workplace, unannounced, because he wanted to see him. He literally has no other motivation to be here, just wanting to see Harry. And it’s a bit hard to believe but he’s elated all the same. He can feel the corners of his lips curl into a smirk and a few taunts on the tip of his tongue. “Aw, you missed me! You really missed me!”

“Nah, I’ve been told this bakery has the best blueberry muffins ever so I am here to check them out for myself, nothing to do with you.” Louis shrugs, his smile not faltering at all in spite of the obvious lie. He reaches over the counter when Harry pretends to pout, shaky bottom lip and all, and squeezes his hand. “You’re the cherry on top of my muffin, though.”

Harry bursts out laughing, startling Ella and a few patrons in the process. He’s lost count of the amount of shitty lines Louis has used since he’s known him, only knows it’s quite a ridiculously high number. Louis just stares at him, looking less than impressed as he waits for Harry to calm down. It doesn’t take long for his cackles to weaken, just the occasional chuckle passing through his lips every now and then. “Are you done yet?”

“Yes, yeah, sorry.” Harry says, trying to contain the last of his laughter. He takes in a deep breath, makes a show of it to make Louis smile. It’s rather successful, even if it’s only a small smile. “Right, do you want something to drink with your muffin?”

Harry hands Louis the list of their hot beverages, watches him go straight to the teas’ part and grimace as he reads through it. Louis is very serious about his tea, as Harry learned the day Louis’ housemate had taken the last of his Yorkshire Tea and Louis almost had a coronary over it. He’s so faithful to his preferred brand that Harry’s made a joke out of it, pretending to be looking for a way to get the company to sponsor him. All he’d have to do is tweet about it all the time, maybe get a Yorkshire Tea truck for his wedding or something. He might try to get Liz to put it on the menu if Louis comes to see him often enough. He’ll buy it with his own money if she refuses. It’ll be sweet and cute, the kind of things seen in chick flicks.

“Guess I’ll go for a Chai.” Louis sighs, putting the menu back on the counter. He grabs a handful of sachets of sugar that he stuffs into his jacket’s pockets, doesn’t even seem to realise what he’s doing, like it’s an automatism more than a conscious action. “I didn’t just come here to see you, by the way.”

“Ah, so you admit you came here to see me!”

“Shut up.” Louis groans, clearly fighting a smile. “So anyway, I don’t know if you heard but this big circus is coming to town for the next couple of weeks. I was going to take my sisters to a show this weekend but it turns out they’d rather go to the birthday party of some kid they see every day than come to visit their dear brother they barely ever hang out with.”

“Kids nowadays.” Harry comments with a smile, taking a blueberry muffin from the display and putting it on a plate to give Louis.

“Yeah. So I’ve already bought the tickets and I thought maybe you’d like to come with me. You and Dylan, I mean. And we could grab a bite after the show, make it a cool evening out.”

Harry looks up from where he’s pouring boiling water into a carton cup, tries to find signs of uncertainty on Louis’ face. He seems to be serious about this, about doing something with Dylan. Harry is both flabbergasted and elated. He’s never met a guy his age interested in spending time with his brother before. Well, other than Liam and Niall that is, but they don’t really count since he doesn’t want to have any kind of romantic or sexual relationship with them. He hisses in pain as boiling water hit the back of his skin, the cup overflowing with it. Louis is quick to grab his hand and lead him to the sink, a bit clumsily because of the wooden counter between them. Harry sighs in relief when the cold water touches his reddened skin, soothing it. He waits for his hand to be back to a normal colour and wraps it in a wet dishtowel.

“Sounds great.” Harry says once he’s taken care of his hand, his eyes locking with Louis’ and his lips curling into a smile. “The circus, I mean. Dylan will love that.”

“Great!” Louis beams. “It’s a date then.”

*********

Harry decides to surprise Dylan, gets him ready for an evening out but only tells him they’re going out to dinner. And Dylan is as suspicious as a kid his age can be but he doesn’t make a fuss, is just happy to be going out with Harry. He spots the tent of the circus from the bus and bounces on his seat as soon as he realises that they’re going to watch a show. Louis is waiting for them at the bus stop, beaming. Dylan’s entire face lightens up when he sees him there and he jumps off the last step to run straight into Louis’ arms. Harry’s quite envious of his brother, wishes he could follow his example and fold his body into Louis’ embrace. He’d just stay there forever, though. Louis lifts Dylan up and settles him on his hip, holding him up with one arm under his bum, his muscles flexing prettily. Harry tears his eyes off of Louis’ arm, catches the smile on his lips instead. He’d like to kiss him right now.

“Me and Harry go to the circus!” Dylan reveals, grinning and pointing a finger in the general direction of the tent behind Louis. “You come too?”

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

Dylan nods his head excitedly, wrapping his little arms around Louis’ neck for a hug. Harry releases a breath he hadn’t even noticed he was holding. He didn’t think Dylan would have a problem with seeing Louis again. He’s talked about him every day since the luncheon, about how cool his tattoos are and how good he is at football and how funny he is. So he wasn’t really worried but he’s still relieved to know Dylan does want to spend time with Louis. He really likes Louis, is the thing, but he’d never even consider being with a man Dylan doesn’t approve of. And he wants to be with Louis, can only hope Louis wants to be with him too. He is brought back to Earth by Dylan tugging on his shirt’s sleeve so he shakes all thoughts of a future with Louis out of his head to concentrate on the present instead. Dylan’s beaming as bright as the sun, obviously happy with his surprise.

“Louis say we can go at the animal.”

*********

Louis comes by the bakery almost every day, often after long hours of revisions at the library. He sits at the table nearest to the counter and waits for the end of Harry’s shift. He reads through his notes or asks Harry to quiz him when there’s a lull in the stream of customers. He sometimes goes with Harry to pick Dylan up from school or just walks with him to the stop bus on days Lucy’s watching him. He proposes to go on day trips on weekends, suggests and researches museums and parks and movies. They even go to the restaurant the Saturday after Louis’ last exam, just the three of them. Dylan’s a handful that night, can’t keep still for more than two minutes and runs all around the place, refuses to eat half of the things Harry ordered for him and practically gives himself a sugar high. Harry’s a little surprised to get a message from Louis the next day, asking if they’d like to check the new ice cream shop with him later. He’s just so amazing with Dylan, always, regardless of the boy’s mood and behaviour. He’s patient with him, kind and caring. Harry’s pretty sure he’s already half in love with him just for that.

They go out without Dylan sometimes, never do anything too extravagant but always have a great time. They go out after Dylan’s asleep, Niall taking on the role of babysitter with more enthusiasm than he used to. He probably believes Harry’s getting some. He’s totally rooting for Louis and him, apparently. He’s self-proclaimed Captain Of The Larry Ship, whatever that means. They go to the pub or at the cinema. They stumble upon a playground once or twice but decide to stay away from the slides. Some nights, they just stay at home and watch movies with Niall. They always end up glued together on the couch while Niall curls up on the loveseat. Louis dozes off on his shoulder most nights but never stays over.

Louis fits in Harry’s life like the missing piece of a puzzle he’s been trying to finish for years, makes it finally complete and beautiful. Louis fits in Harry’s life like he’s always belonged there, only took a bit of time to find his rightful place.

*********

“Wake up, sleepyhead, next stop is ours.” Louis whispers into Harry’s hair, laughs quietly when Harry just groans and buries his face deeper into the crook of his neck. He pushes him off gently and gets up before he can lean against him. Harry opens one eye, watches Louis’ face as he puts on his best pout. Louis doesn’t fall for it, though. He grabs both of his wrists and pulls him up, leads him to the front of the bus with his hand firmly clasp around his. “Why are you so tired anyway?”

“Have a child.” Harry mutters as he follows Louis out of the bus. He leans against him again when he wraps an arm around his waist, helping him stay upright on the way to Liam’s. “Dylan’s been having nightmares and ends up sleeping in my bed most nights. He kicks in his sleep, real hard.”

“Nightmares about what?”

“He’s not telling me.” Harry sighs, shoulders slumping in defeat. He doesn’t know much about kids but he knows monsters under the bed are often representations of deeper issues. He doesn’t know what to do to help his brother, just feels so out of his depth lately. “I’ve tried to ask him but he just pretends to have forgotten about them.” 

“I can talk to him if you want. He might find it easier to tell someone who’s not his brother, you know?” Louis suggests, staring at the pavement with a frown. 

Harry can hardly believe he’s been lucky enough to meet and be friend with such an amazing person. And he’s more than sure of his feelings for Louis at this point, knows he’d like to take their friendship to another level. But he feels like he has waited too long and can’t really do anything about it now. He just can’t take the risk to lose Louis. Dylan’s too attached to him; it’d crush him. He, himself, would be devastated. So he’d rather be just friends than nothing at all.

“Doesn’t hurt to try, I guess.” Harry says, squeezing the hand Louis is resting on his hip. He still feels the tingles under his touch, even after all those weeks. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

Harry draws away from Louis the closer they get to Liam and Lucy’s, too tired to put up with Lucy’s suspicious looks. He shouldn’t have told her about his feelings for Louis. And he shouldn’t have brought Louis to their monthly Sunday Brunch after, shouldn’t have given her the opportunity to observe him for an entire day. She probably wouldn’t be so convinced Louis is very much gone on him then and she definitely wouldn’t be trying to convince him to just ask Louis out. Harry has tried to explain it to her, all the reasons why it’d d be a bad idea for him to start a relationship with Louis, but she refuses to even just listen to him. She thinks he’s hiding behind Dylan because he’s scared to get hurt. She might be right.

“So, a little bird told me you promised Dylan a piñata cake for his birthday.” Louis says when they walk up Liam and Lucy’s driveway, grin pulling at the corners of his lips as he glances at Harry. He slows down to fall a few steps behind Harry to let him open the door. He still feels pretty uncomfortable letting himself in. “Isn’t it a little ambitious, even for a great baker like you?”

“It’s just a sponge cake with a hole in the middle.” Harry shrugs, holding the door open for Louis and leading him to the living room. “My only issue is the flavours he chose. They just don’t go together, like at all. But I’m working on it.”

Dylan is, as Harry expected, in the living room. He’s laying on his stomach on the carpeted floor, feet propped against the couch and tip of his tongue peaking out of his mouth as he concentrates on his drawing. There are crumpled pages around him, most of already full of sketches. Lucy comes in with a new stack of papers, pauses at the sight of Harry and Louis watching an oblivious Dylan. And Harry checks the amount of space between them discreetly, notes it should be enough to keep her suspicions at bay and hates himself for feeling like he has to control his natural reaction to Louis. He doesn’t want to stand so far from him, or try to contain his smile while he watches him interact with Dylan. He shouldn’t have to, probably doesn’t really have to. He doesn’t think it’ll stop Lucy from being a pain in his arse anyway. Louis greets Lucy with a hug, a rather quick but still tight hug. Harry bites the inside of his cheek to not smile. He just really loves that Louis has been so easily accepted by all of his stupid friends, really loves that Louis has adopted all of his stupid friends too. Dylan, who must have noticed some movements from the corner of his eyes, looks up from his drawing and grin when he sees Harry. He scrambles to his feet and attaches himself to Harry’s leg, a drawing carefully clutched in his hand.

“Hey, Munchkin.” Harry smiles, ruffling his brother’s hair and earning a weak glare for it. “How was school today?”

“Miss Potter make us draw the family to give Daddies.” Dylan reveals, his grin not faltering one bit while Harry’s disappears completely. He’s started to get nervous at the approach of Mother’s Day and Father’s Day when he signed his brother up for school, scared he’d be troubled by the fuss made around those days he can’t celebrate, not the way his friends do at least. “I draw me and you and Louis, and Joanne say my drawing is lame because I draw two daddies but I tell her to stuff it because you love Louis and Louis love you so he is like my daddy too.”

Harry’s heart might have stopped, his brain too busy processing his brother’s words to remind it to pump blood. So that’s how he’s going to die then, from embarrassment and shame caused by his baby brother’s innocence. He can’t think of a worst way to go right now. He dares a furtive glance in Louis’ direction. Louis looks just as stunned as he feels, a rosy tint to his cheeks when he catches Harry’s eyes and flashes a rather weak smile. Harry wonders if Dylan could be right, if Louis loves him too. It’s neither the time nor place to question the way Louis feels for him, though. He doesn’t even know which part of Dylan’s little speech he should address first. He’s not going to broach the subject of his feelings for Louis with Louis standing there, that’s all he knows for sure. Dylan smacks a slobbery kiss on the back of his hand, detaches himself from his leg and runs to Louis’ side.

“I draw the picture for you but you can not show Harry. He see on Father’s Day only.” Dylan says, proud grin on his face and sparkles in his eyes as he hands the drawing to Louis. He watches Louis look at his picture, occasionally checking on Harry to make sure he’s not trying to get a sneak peak. “You like it?”

Louis takes his eyes off the drawing to look at Dylan, his eyes a little watery as he folds the paper carefully and slips it in the back pocket of his jeans before crouching to Dylan’s level. He pulls him into a tight hug, holding him close with an arm around his waist and a hand on the back of his lips, thin lips pressed against his temple. “I love it very much, thank you.”

Louis’ eyes are still a little wet when he looks at Harry over Dylan’s shoulder, so full of love and care that it takes Harry’s breath away. And Harry just can’t be his friend, doesn’t want to be his friend. He wants to be his boyfriend, his fiancé, his husband. He wants to be with him and build a future with him. He’s in love with him and he just can’t ignore it anymore.

*********

“What have I done, Luce?” Harry whines, collapsing onto the nearest chair and dropping his head on the table. It hurts quite a bit. He’s probably going to have a lump on his forehead. He deserves the pain, though. He deserves all the bad things life will throw at him from now on. He should have been more careful, should have kept his brother out of this. He’s responsible for him. He’s supposed to take care of him, not cause him disappointment and pain. “Dylan drew him on a family portrait, Lucy! He basically told that girl he was his dad! He just loves him so much and I don’t know what to do about that.”

“You could just be happy your kid likes your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Harry corrects, more of an automatism than anything at this point. He’s not really sure what they are, to be honest. All he knows is that they’re not just friends anymore. It sure has never felt like a normal friendship to Harry. He was just quite good at pretending for a while. “Why did I have to complicate everything? Why did I have to fall in love with him?”

It’s the first time he has said it out loud, the first time he has said it to someone else. It feels a little strange, like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders for a moment, only to quickly be replaced by a heavier one. He doesn’t want to be so in love with Louis he can’t ignore it. He doesn’t want to lose him, doesn’t want Dylan to lose him.

“There’s nothing wrong with being in love, Haz.” Lucy says gently, scraping his scalp with her nails, just the way he loves. He leans into her touch, possibly purrs a little.

“He’s going to leave and Dylan’s going to be devastated.” Harry says after a long moment of silence, eyes closed to keep the tears at bay. He really doesn’t want to lose Louis, doesn’t want a life without him. He wishes there was a way to still be friends with him once it will all be out in the open. “Louis is the best thing that happened to us, Luce, and now he’s going to leave us and it’s all my fault.”

“You’re just so daft sometimes!” Lucy exclaims, whacking Harry behind the head and forcing him to open his eyes. She lifts his head with a hand under his chin and looks him straight in the eyes. “Louis loves you, Harry. He’s in love with you.”

Harry starts to shake his head, her arms moving with his movements. “You can’t know that.”

“Everyone can see it, Harry.” Lucy sighs, patting his cheek with a condescending smile on her lips. He sort of dislikes her a little right now. “Louis looks at you like you hung the moon and stars up there, like he sees his future every time he lays eyes on you and Dylan.”

“Why hasn’t he done anything about it, then?” Harry asks, a plaintive tone to his voice. He thinks back to that night at the playground, to Louis almost kissing him at the bottom of the slide. He thinks about all the conversations they had on their walks, sitting on barely moving swings. Louis could have talked to him then, could have told him how he felt, could have acted on it. He could have but he didn’t.

“Why haven’t you?”

Harry wants to argue, wants to tell her it’s different. Louis doesn’t have a child to put first, to protect. It’s not Dylan he’s trying to protect, though. He’s trying to protect himself too. He’s scared to tell Louis how he feels and be rejected, scared to have his heart broken. Louis could be as scared as he is.

*********

Dylan’s birthday creeps up on Harry like a nasty bug on a summer day. He hasn’t seen the last week go by, has been too concerned by his feelings for Louis. He can barely concentrate on anything else. He’s been observing Louis the last few days, Lucy’s words echoing through his head every time he looks at him. He doesn’t quite see what she sees but he does notices differences in how he treats him compared to how he treats his other friends. He’s softer with him, calmer. He touches him more than he touches anyone else, lingers longer. And he has a look just for him, a smile just for him. He may not be in love with him but he does love him. He does care about him. And he might fall in love with him eventually. Harry thinks Louis is worth waiting for. He just hopes he won’t have to wait forever. It’d be a bit long, really. Maybe he should set up a deadline, decide to move on if nothing’s changed in a couple of years. He’s unlikely to have a serious and long-term relationship before Dylan’s old enough to leave the nest anyway, which is not going to happen for another fourteen years or so. He won’t miss out on much if he waits for Louis until then. He’ll make his move when Dylan turns eighteen. It sounds like a great plan to him right now.

But he has to concentrate on Dylan’s fourth birthday for now, has a cake to stuff full of sweets and cover with chocolate icing. He’s thankful of Lucy and Liam for treating Dylan to a special birthday lunch. He doesn’t think he’d have finished the cake on time with Dylan around. He’ll know better than to wait the last minute to bake the cake next year. He should have already known better this year, really. He’s a baker after all. He just didn’t expect the decoration to be so much work.

He should check on Louis and Niall at some point, make sure they didn’t turn the living room into a war zone or something. He wouldn’t be all that surprised to find a real jungle in his living room rather than the carton trees he’s asked them to cut out. Louis is the biggest trickster Harry has ever met and Niall’s in proper adoration with him. He’d do just about anything Louis asks him to without an ounce of hesitation.

Harry is just about to finish the monkey’s stomach, painted on the cake with white chocolate icing, when Louis walks in. He doesn’t say anything, just goes straight to the fridge and grabs a bottle of water. He gulps half of it in one go, eyes on Harry’s as he tries to concentrate on cleaning the excess of icing to make a smooth layer. His hands are shaking too much, though. He takes in a deep breath and tries again. Louis comes to stand behind him, hooks his chin on his shoulder to see the cake. Harry’s pretty sure he feels Louis’ lips pressing on the skin just above his pulse point, his warm breath tickling him lightly. And he makes a dent in the finally smooth layer. He feels Louis shake against his back, hears him chuckle into his ear. He sort of hates the effect Louis has on him sometimes.

“That monkey piñata cake looks great.” Louis says, grin on his face as he steps away from Harry and sit on the square of table that’s not covered with flour. He takes the bowl of dark chocolate icing on his laps and dives two fingers in it. “Dyl is going to love it, no doubt.”

Harry watches him bring his fingers to his mouth and lick the chocolate off of them, tongue swirling around the digits. He sucks on them, hollowing his cheeks and all. It’s pretty obscene, really. And he just holds Harry’s gaze the whole time, smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “This is so good, Haz.” He moans around his fingers.

“You’re such a shit.” Harry mutters, breaking the eye contact and busying himself cleaning the table. He tries to adjust himself discreetly, his jeans uncomfortably tight between the legs. His hands are sweating so much the utensils keep slipping out of his grip. He’s feeling rather uncomfortable right now. He hates Louis. “I hate you.”

“Sure you do.” Louis wheezes between two giggles, smearing chocolate icing on Harry’s cheek as he pats it lightly. Louis laughs even harder at the sight, almost slipping off the table.

Harry takes the bowl of white chocolate icing, twists a finger in what’s left of it and splashes it on Louis’ chin. Louis stops laughing then, round eyes staring at Harry as the icing dribble down his chin and onto his trousers. Harry obviously didn’t think this through. He might have to run to the bathroom and jerk off, the visual just too much for him to handle right now. Louis doesn’t help matters when he collects the white mess with his fingers and puts them in his mouth, sucking on them with gusto. Harry might combust with desire and frustration soon.

“Want a taste?” Louis asks, wriggling his dirty fingers in front of Harry’s face, smirk on his lips. “It’s really good, just sweet enough…”

Harry shuts him up with his lips, pushing them against Louis’ firmly. And it’s not a great kiss. It’s barely a kiss, actually. It’s more like two pairs of lips awkwardly pressed together, definitely not what Harry might have imagined for their first kiss. Louis gets over his shock before Harry, wrapping his arms around Harry’s shoulders and tangling his –hopefully clean – hand into his hair. He moves his lips against Harry’s, tentatively slow. Harry’s hands grip Louis’ hips, fingernails digging into the fabric of his jeans as he probes his lips open with the tip of his tongue. He tastes like chocolate and mint, as sweet as Harry thought he would. They break apart eventually, their lungs screaming for some air, but Louis prevents Harry from drawing away with a hand on the back of his head. Harry has no intention to step away from him, ever. He presses their foreheads together, eyes locking with Louis’ through their eyelashes.

“Ugh, you two are so fucking cute it’s proper disgusting.”

Niall’s voice startles them apart, Louis’ hand dropping to his side abruptly and knocking against the table. He hisses in pain and slides off the table, lower body brushing against Harry’s as his feet hit the ground. He pauses, eyes drifting to the obvious bulge in Harry’s pants. Harry has to close his eyes to not cry from humiliation and embarrassment.

“We’ll talk later.” Louis whispers in his ear, warm breath tickling Harry’s lobe. He brushes his lips against Harry’s jaw, bites it lightly and walks to the freezer with a smirk on his face.

So maybe Harry won’t have to wait fourteen years after all.

*********

Dylan’s birthday party is a success, has the newly four years old boy beaming as bright as the sun all day. He can’t stop talking about it throughout the evening, the activities and the cake and the gifts. He’s still raving about how great his day has been when Harry puts him to bed, excitedly recounting every details of the day. Harry expects him to take a while to fall asleep, which would bother him on any other day but feels like a relief tonight. He hasn’t had much time to think about what happened this morning, hasn’t had much time to prepare for the conversation Louis said they’d have. He’s not ready for the possible rejection that will come out of this conversation.

“I’m glad you had fun, Munchkin, but it’s time to sleep now.” Harry smiles, pulling the blanket up to Dylan’s shoulders and kissing the top of his head. “Goodnight, Dylan.”

“Goodnight, Harry. Thank for my party.” Dylan mumbles sleepily, eyelids already dropping shut, surprisingly.

Harry turns the lights off on his way out, leaves the door slightly open and walks to the bathroom. He stands in front of the mirror, staring at his reflection. He looks a mess, curls all over the place and dark bags under his eyes. He splashes water on his face, takes his headscarf off and gathers his hair into a bun instead. He’s still far from looking his best but it will do. It has to do. He takes in a deep breath and leaves the bathroom. He has never walked slower in his entire life, honestly.   

“No offence, Lucy, but I don’t think you are the person I should talk about this with.”

Louis’ voice drifts down the hallway, stopping Harry in his tracks. Harry’s never heard him sound so annoyed before, and Niall would have deserved some clipped tone on more than one occasion. Louis is just a model of patience. Harry’s not surprised Lucy is the one who finally pushed him beyond his limits. She has that sort of power on people.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Lucy agrees with a sigh. “But Harry’s a stubborn frog, you know? He’ll just let his fears control his life and miss out on something great.”

“I love that stubborn frog, Lucy. I’m in love with him and I want to be with him more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

Harry would be offended by his friends calling him a frog but it seems his brain have stopped functioning, fried by Louis’ words and the sincerity in his voice. Lucy was right. Louis really does love him. He wants a relationship with him, probably something serious and long-term. Harry really is quite daft sometimes. And he just can’t believe he hasn’t seen it. He’s spent the last few days observing Louis to try and see what Lucy sees but he hasn’t seen anything. It was right under his nose, obvious for everyone but him. He’s spent so much time thinking Louis could never fall in love with him because of all the baggage he’s carrying. But Louis has been falling in love with him all along, has been accepting all of his baggage all along.

“What are you standing in the hallway for, mate?” Niall asks when he comes out of his bedroom, startling Harry out of his daze. Harry must be a sight right now, plastered against the wall with a hand over his heart and his unblinking eyes as round as saucers. Niall frowns, bringing a hand up to Harry’s arm and squeezing. “You’re okay, Haz?”

Harry manages a feeble nod in answer, still feeling a bit out of this reality. Louis loves him. Louis wants to be with him.

“Hey Nialler, I need help carrying a few things to the recycle bin. Please.” Lucy calls from the living room, not making a good job of covering her attempt to give Harry and Louis a moment alone.

Niall peaks through the doorway of the living room, frown deepening with each passing second. He stares at Harry for a moment, then back at Lucy and Louis in the living room. “Okay, but you owe me a beer.” He shrugs, looking unbothered.

Harry takes a moment to gather his wits, waits for his heartbeat to slow down. He has nothing to worry about, nothing to be scared of. Louis loves him, wants a future with him. There’s only one possible end to their conversation and it’s the best possible end. He smiles at the thought, the upward curl of his lips small and shaky but still there. He’s getting a happy ending. He takes in a deep breath and steps in the living room. He finds Louis sitting on the couch, one leg pressed against his chest while he pulls on his trousers’ loose seams.

“Hey.” Harry says quietly, small smile still on his lips as he sits on the coffee table to face Louis. He just watches him tear a hole into his jeans, the silence between them as heavy and uncomfortable as it has never been before. He takes Louis’ hands, fingers closing around his wrists loosely. “So, about that conversation…”

“Well, I think you’ve heard everything I have to say already.” Louis replies with a shrug, moving his hands until they’re tangled with Harry’s, his fingers fitting the spaces between Harry’s so perfectly. His lips are curled into a hesitant smile, just a shy tug at the corners.  “So it’s your turn now.”

And Harry would like to hear Louis say those words to him, would like to at him when he hears them this time. But he can wait. He already knows how Louis feels about him, has already heard them from him even if he wasn’t actually talking to him. He can tell Louis how he feels about him now. It’s only fair. And there’s no risk anyway, no fear to have.

“You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Louis. You’re so important to me, and to Dylan too. He, like, worships you, you know? He always tells me you’re his favourite superhero.”

“I’m not a superhero, though.” Louis cuts in, lips pressed into a tight line and eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Yeah, but you must have superpowers to make his big brother so happy.” Harry says, repeating Dylan’s words, similar grin on his lips. Louis smiles back at him, albeit a little weakly. Harry squeezes his hand, trying to reassure him. “You do, you know? Make me happy.”

Louis nods slowly. It’s the first time Harry’s acknowledged it, how much happier he’s been since he’s met Louis. And it feels nice to finally say it. It feels right. He catches Louis’ gaze again, swallows around the growing lump in his throat and continues.

“I’m a two men deal, Lou. The buy one, get one free sort of deal.” Harry laughs wetly while Louis’ lips curl that little bit more. “So if we do this, if we give this, us, a try, it won’t only be me you’re committing to but Dylan too. So I need you to be sure about this.

Louis lets go of Harry’s hands to frame his face instead, thumb tracing random patterns in the skin under his eyes. He’s smiling softly, eyes shining with so much love and care. It has always been there, waiting for Harry to see and accept it. He is an idiot. Louis presses his lips to Harry’s, just a quick and dry peck. “I have always known that Dylan was part of the package, Harry. But I’ve falling in love with you all the same. And I know it’s not going to be a walk in the park but I love you and I love Dyl and I want to be a part of your life. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I can promise you I’ve never been sure of anything in my life.”

Harry’s eyes are burning, begging him to just blink already, so he closes them. He breathes in deep, steadily. He feels like he’s in a dream, watching the story unfold from above. But unlike in dreams, he has the ability to react here, to act. He can tell Louis how he feels, kiss him and touch him. And it makes this reality a lot better than any dream he could have had. He opens his eyes again, finds Louis looking at him with a shaky smile on his lips and a hint of worry in his eyes. So he does the one thing he’s been thinking about doing at least once a day since he’s met Louis. He kisses him. He feels Louis’ smile widen against his lips, his own curling up at the corners.

“I love you too.” He murmurs against Louis’ mouth, lips glued in a permanent grin.

“Awesome.” Louis laughs, getting on his feet and pulling Harry up from his seat. He twines their hands together and leads them toward the hallway. “I have been waiting for you to stop being an oblivious idiot for so long and I’m going to burst a nut if you don’t put your hands on me in the next five minutes.”

“Would it be okay if I put my mouth on you, too?” Harry asks, faked innocence in his voice. He sneaks an arm around Louis’ middle when he stumbles over his own two feet, pulls him tight against his chest and bites his shoulder through the t-shirt.

“You’re going to be the death of me, Styles.” Louis laughs, intertwining his fingers with Harry’s on top of his stomach and guiding him the rest of the way to his bedroom.

“What a beautiful death it will be.

*********

“Do you believe in soulmates, Haz?” Louis asks later that night, fingertips dancing on Harry stomach. He lets them drift lower, follows his boyfriend’s lucky trail under the duvet and brings his hand back to his stomach.

“I do now.” Harry answers quietly, kisses the top of Louis’ head and tightens his hold on his shoulders.


End file.
